


The week ends in may

by milkteamayhem



Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear, 悪魔のリドル | Akuma no Riddle | Riddle Story of Devil
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Crossover, F/F, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkteamayhem/pseuds/milkteamayhem
Summary: Carol Malus Dienheim grew up without a mother, having assisted her father as a field medic until his sudden passing.Kirigaya Hitsugi grew up constantly on the run, she figured that hunters could be hunted when three beds turned into one.Born from two sides of the same war, what did 'home' mean to the both of them?
Relationships: Carol Malus Dienheim & Tachibana Hibiki, Carol Malus Dienheim/Kirigaya Hitsugi
Kudos: 2





	The week ends in may

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the crossover fic to give Carol another girlfriend has shamelessly returned.
> 
> Edit: Added and reworded the note since I originally posted this in the morning and was still groggy without much to say.
> 
> Finally after two years of thinking I took the first steps to make this crossover AU fic idea a reality and damn is it satisfying.  
I dedicate this fic and all its upcoming chapters as a gift to a dear friend who explored this pairing with me back on tumblr.  
It's funny, cause we first had them interact with slight canon-deviation on Hitsugi's side, so perhaps it's fitting that this fic followed the nature of an AU trend.  
Love you and your Carol, Kia <3
> 
> I also took the opportunity to explore some interactions that we never had the chance to see in both series.  
Like the Hibiki/Carol shenanigans. Or reminding people that Hitsugi can hold a normal conversation without Chitaru around.  
I have to make food for myself, you see? Haha.
> 
> The story, setting, or even character portrayal might not rub well with you and that's alright.  
I am still thankful for giving this fic a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["Stranded in the city  
That doesn't hold me down  
Silencing my feelings  
Streetlights blinking red again"](https://youtu.be/Q-wJbzfRyP4)

Three things flashed past her mind as she experienced temporal levitation when a horned beast catapulted her forty feet into the air.

The first of how much trouble she was in right now, the second of how beautiful the moon looked tonight, and the third of how painful this would be when she hits the ground.

Hitsugi grunted, landing square on her back with a loud thud. Didn’t sound like she’d broken any bones from that. The beast lets her one second to reorientate herself before charging straight at her. Hitsugi scrambles away and the beast slams into the tree behind her, trapping its horns. It trashed violently to free itself, nearly uprooting the tree in the process, when a stake pierced through its chest.

Kouko lowers her aim, exhaling an even breath.

“I said ‘act as bait’, not behave like the real thing and leave yourself defenseless.” she sighs into the microphone. Hitsugi lets out an airy laugh.

“Sorry ‘bout that. An amateur’s mistake.” she pulls herself off the ground, dusting her uniform and readjusting her jockey cap so that it sits snug on her ponytail. Hitsugi wipes dirt off her face with her sleeve, her smile still remaining.

Kouko creased her brow studying her fellow warden. She had questions of her own, but swallowed them in favour of their current duties.

Things lurk at night in this city. ‘Mudlings’, creatures of mud and dirt that rise from the ground in search of humans to lug back into their endless pit. A curse, believed to be the manifestation of retribution for betraying the tireless sentinel who dedicated his life to safeguarding this land from foreign invaders for many centuries in the past. A foreign sacrifice would have sufficed then, but now it devours all equally.

Curse or not, it remained an established fact that society is unable to thrive under the uncertainty these mudlings brought. Businesses could not run if their workers and associates were regularly spirited away. Some form of surety had to be established, and that resulted in the wardens, a trained task force that would patrol the city while it sleeps. This created new demand in the security sector, with large corporations scouting for the elites, even monopolizing the market at times. It came as no surprise then, that as an institution funded by one such corporation, the Lydian Private Academy would invest in grooming their own wardens, too.

Kouko clears another thick bush as they trekked their way through the forest bridging the campus and dormitory area that’s across the road. Mudlings were most prone to spawning here than in areas nearer to the school or dorms due to the presence of natural ground, making it a prime location for patrols.

“So,” Kouko begins, back facing Hitsugi. “care to explain what happened just now?”

“There’s not much to explain. I didn’t pay attention, that’s all.”

Kouko turns around, face almost unreadable. The better voice in Hitsugi’s mind knew she hadn’t bought her simple answer, even if that was all there is to it. Kouko opens her mouth but a crackling sound from their earpieces cut her short.

“Mudlings spotted at E8. Three humanoids.” it read before the line shuts off.

Kouko presses a hand to the device.

“This is Hound 3 and Hound 4 at F9. We will intercept.” 

Hitsugi gave her a mildly affronted look, even if she was in no position to revoke a decision made without her consent. Not that much consent was required on this job.

E8 took them to the fringe of the forest, near the canal waterway that outlined the school boundary - anything beyond that red brick bridge was public property.

Kouko led the charge as the one who’d unilaterally declared their intention. She spots the first of their targets and draws her standard-issue short sword, her wooden stakes reserved only for bigger prey. The mudling was slow to notice their approach, sluggish as it attempts to turn. Kouko swings her blade and cleaved it by its waist.

Hitsugi follows closely, blade drawn as she dashes for the second target. It throws out an arm, but Hitsugi easily side steps to evade it, her sword cutting through its chest.

"Where," she casts a sweeping glance around. Wasn’t there supposed to be three of them?

“--tsugi, BEHIND YOU!”

Kouko’s voice rips through her ear and Hitsugi grimaced. She instantly drops low to the ground, spinning around to identify the threat, whatever it was. From her peripheral she sees paws like bludgeons the size of her head swipe past her, missing by only a hair’s breadth.

A beast, and twice the size of its horned accomplice from earlier.

It takes Hitsugi a bit to register its existence, not noticing the arm it’s raised, nor hearing Kouko’s warnings.

The towering beast brings down a punishing blow and Hitsugi rolls over to avoid the worst of it. The ground explodes beside her, sending debris in all directions from the sheer impact that left nothing but a crater in its place. Two stakes whizzed in rapid succession, one breaking through its shoulder, collapsing the limb, while the other chipped off parts of its head. The beast stands unfazed albeit missing an arm, roaring in an act of aggression. Mudlings can’t make noise, for they have no organs.

Hitsugi gets up quickly and jumps away for distance but the beast deftly catches her by her ankle and flings the warden into the nearest tree. It snaps the tree clean in half, wind knocked out of her.

A stake pierces its chest but doesn't penetrate deep enough to hurt its core. The beast lunges at Kouko who fends off its attacks, alternating her footwork to dodge and parry. It strikes its heavy paw a little further than usual and Kouko seizes the opening to close in, severing its leg with the edge of her blade. The beast crashes into the ground, its balance thrown off.

Just as Kouko prepares to deal the finishing blow, Hitsugi leaps from behind, jumping off a tree with her short sword in hand. Aimed for the center of the beast's back, she stabs down hard, harnessing the speed and energy gained from her fall to plunge the weapon hilt-deep into its body. The beast convulsed, struggling weakly till it no longer moves. Cracks spread across its body before it all crumbles, returning as heaps of dirt to the ground from where it came.

For a moment all they heard were their own breathing, Kouko being the first to speak. She presses at the device in her ear.

"Three humanoids at E8, clear." she reports as per protocol, a response following seconds later.

"Affirmative. Hound 3 and Hound 4 to resume patrol."

Kouko exhales heavily as the line cuts and turns to Hitsugi.

"... I’ll take that as another amateur's mistake? That's quite a lot for one night."

"Yeah…" Hitsugi laughs softly, apologetic in some way. "It seems my mind's not here tonight. Sorry."

“Keep it together, alright? We still have three hours till dawn. I can’t be endangering myself because of your poor performance.”

Hitsugi offers a wry smile and nods. "I understand."

This is the East Gate of Lydian Private Academy, Shin Tokyo-kai. Fifty sixth prefecture of the twenty second ward in Japan. Bustling port city and growing commercial hub of the island’s southern coast where sometimes --just sometimes!-- things come forth from the earth to ruin your night.

* * *

_ Two thousand years ago the surface of the earth was seared by nuclear warheads and biological weapons in the most devastating war in history, the AI Nuclear Genocide. Countries were obliterated in a flash and billions of lives vanquished. The radiation poisoning that followed adding millions to the number. Humans persisted in spite of that, and the population recovered. Come five centuries in the past and wars are still being fought, now governed by strict laws requiring both a third power as witness and predetermined boundaries to control the scale of damage. However, humans’ desire for more is never sated. It was during this time, the Northern powers abused an unknown drug that mutated certain genes in the human genome, granting those infected with abilities exceeding human limitations. What changed was also their sudden appetite for blood, sustenance for their newly granted abilities. Fresh human blood was ideal due to its base composition while animal blood proved only to be a decent alternative when the former can’t be found. Their existence bore similarities to the monsters written in ancient folklore and as such, these people were soon dubbed as ‘Vampires’. _

Carol stared blankly at the pale empty ceiling, the bumps and imperfections from residual plaster that normally went unnoticed stood out casting faint shadows with the soft glow from lamp posts some three floors below. Convinced that sleep would not find her soon, she chooses to dart her eyes around the open canvas above, studying every detail she could from corner to corner, inch by inch. It lacked the intricate designs she was so used to seeing as a child. Then again it, it wasn't fair at all to compare a college dormitory’s room with the ceiling murals of the Dienheim family’s mansion.

Easing her tense shoulders, she extends a hand forward and begins tracing the grand image from memory. The sea of constellations, loops of planetary orbits, continent markers, mythical creatures and various other texts that were etched into her dark bedroom ceiling, filled with shimmering gold ink, almost like a modern recreation of the fabled ‘mappa mundi’ from ancient civilization. She recalled it being her tenth birthday present from Papa. How he’d kept it a secret till it was bedtime. How her eyes had lit up in awe and wonder at the map that glowed with life like stars in the night sky. How the sight had reignited her young heart's desire to learn more of the things around her. There were so many things she hadn’t known as a child, of the mysteries hidden and those unveiled in plain sight, of the joys and sorrows of living in this world. A faint smile settles on her face. She’s missed this view of her ‘mappa mundi’.

Savouring those bright memories was short-lived however, when bitterness seeps in and her jaw involuntarily tightens. It all came back to her, like parts on a filmstrip that cannot be removed, cannot be reordered. Her hand falls limp by her side, the same hand that had been smeared with his blood. This is the reality she knows. That was her tenth birthday, then on her eighteenth, and now her twenty second. 

_ Happy Birthday, Carol. _

A letter writes, one she wishes to forget.

_ How have you been? _

_ We hope your year has gone well. _

_ Won't you come visit us folks at home? _

_ Everyone misses you. _

_ This old man, too, misses you dearly. _

_ Plans for Christmas are underway. _

_ It will be great if we can have you with us. _

Signed off with love in cursive script was the name:

_ Ibrahim M. Dienheim _

The letter is handled as with many before it, resealed and kept in a drawer, forever blotted out from her life. She will not respond. She does not want to respond.

She finds herself restless on bed. Weren’t birthdays supposed to be a happy event? When had it become this dreadful thing that she avoids like the plague? Many times she wished it’d pass her by like any normal day, peaceful, undisturbed. Yet unpleasant memories cling like a parasite, and these timely letters fail to make things better. Carol yanks her blanket as she flips onto her side. Absurd, really, how she’s actually losing sleep from entertaining these thoughts. Would it help to have a conversation to quell, or at least distract her for the night?

“Hibiki?” Carol hears her hushed voice calling out before she’d answered her own question. No response. Her roommate lays motionless on the bed opposite her. That’s alright. Carol will wait, focusing her eyes for signs of movement if any. Nope, nothing.

“Hibiki.” she tries again and this time the other girl whines and stirs, yet remains unresponsive to her name. It annoys Carol at first, irrational as it may be at this hour, but soon she finds the reason why when she spots a white cable hanging off Hibiki’s chest. Upbeat music spills into the quiet night and Carol listens, quickly identifying the artists as the idol unit, Zwei Wing. Hibiki always did play their songs out loud, didn’t she? Light snoring accompanied seconds later and Carol decides against waking her friend. It would be selfish of her to do so for such trivial matters, won’t it?

Carol sighed, forcing herself to face the empty ceiling once more. How nice it would be, if she had a lullaby to take her away into the land of dreams too.

* * *

_ With vampires came power and authority, oppression and rebellion. The fragile balance tilted in favour of the vampires who were widely worshipped and feared for their capabilities. Conventional weapons barely bruised them, further fueling misconceptions of their unrivalled strength. One by one governments caved with sovereign ruling rights transferred and new decrees enacted. Vampires were quickly declared masters over humanity, and that marked the end of the first century. Their reign lasted sixty six years before the first signs of resistance took form. Human slaves indignant of their social standing sought similar genetic enhancements that would pit them toe-to-toe with the vampires. Repeated experiments of fusing beast DNA into the human genome resulted in the creation of shapeshifters, humans who could take the form of beasts at their own will. These people, they were labelled as ‘Werewolves’. _

Hitsugi sneezed herself awake and groaned, deflating into her bed. It's too early to be awake considering what manner of night she's had prior. They were swamped by mudlings on four separate occasions after encountering the beast. Kouko almost had to call for reinforcements but their crowd control gymnastics pulled them through somehow. Hitsugi slinks under the blanket pooled by her feet in a weak attempt to hide from both the centralized aircon and bright afternoon sun shining on her face. A few minutes more, she decides, hooking a leg over the bed's edge to peel herself off when time was up. She stretches carefully, her back still sore.

At the age of twenty two with some resemblance of an education, job, and a roof over her head, Hitsugi often wonders what her parents would think of her had they seen where she is now. Would they be proud that she’s lived this far? Or would their heads shake in disappointment that she hadn’t gotten further?

"Good morning." greets a voice as Hitsugi leaves her room, locking the door behind her.

"Good morning, Haruki, though it's already past two in the afternoon." she chuckles, climbing onto a barstool by the kitchen counter where their friendly redhead was aerating milk. Haruki laughs and shrugs in response, resuming her latte art practice with a fresh batch of coloured milk.

Hitsugi plays with one of many cups left around, rocking it gently side-to-side as she observes the layer of foam wobble. Her mind still kind of felt woozy like that too. Perhaps from being flung around last night, or because she’d just woken up. She appreciated this lack of conversation while they both did their things. A stove clicks on as Haruki heats chunks of chocolate in a saucepan, the spatula making low thuds as she stirred the melt. Hitsugi closes her eyes, taking in those common sounds of everyday life that pleased her ears. She reaches for another cup, another art, and smiles lazily to herself. Each latte had their own design and creative expression, from the masterful leaf to a skewered attempt at complex patterns, a recreation of Picasso or stuff. They all looked great, she thought. A pity they’d be poured away later when the older girl is done. Every cup here, expendable.

“Here, your hot chocolate. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” the clink of a mug snaps her out of her thoughts.

“Hehe. Thank you.” Hitsugi welcomes the warm beverage into her hands and blows gently at its surface. Haruki always prepared drinks for everyone; black coffee for Kouko, a juicebox for Otoya, and hot chocolate for Hitsugi herself. It was something she’d made a habit of doing since they moved from the shelter into this apartment a decade ago.

It's been a decade, huh.

The rich velvety drink flows down her throat and she lets out a satisfied hum as its warmth nuzzles her from within. A familiar silence settles between them again as Haruki wraps up her latte art practice, an actual cup of latte spared among dozens as she empties the remainder into the sink. Hitsugi takes another mouthful of her drink, glancing to the television which had been playing in the background. The afternoon news rolls in with reports of missing people, likely caused by mudling attacks. Two bodies found afloat by the docks and eleven adults from around town are declared missing today. Dreadful news, yet just another statistic of a shockingly normal affair in this town. An uncharacteristically cheerful anti-theft commercial shamelessly wedges itself in the programme lineup before weather forecasts are shown, and even that didn’t occur to be the slightest bit out of place. Hitsugi lapped the last drops of chocolaty goodness when Haruki pops her head up from behind the counter.

“Ah right, I almost forgot. You doing okay?” she asks and Hitsugi tilts her head, puzzled. “Kouko told me everything. Heard you both had a rough night, juggled and tossed like a ragdoll, so I'm checking.”

Oh.

“I’m all right. A little worn out, that’s all.” Hitsugi offers a placating smile. She considers dismissing further concerns but concluded that that would be far too rude, even from herself. “I’ve handled worse with Otoya, so while it was exhausting, it wasn’t something new.”

The redhead listens, nodding for her to continue. There was nothing else to add, however.

“A mess is still a mess, even if it’s definitely a lot less unruly.” Hitsugi admits with a breathy laugh. “Forget about me, is Kouko doing fine? I know I gave your partner grief last night.”

They shared a laugh.

“No shit, you sure did. Here she thought you’d be feeling down without Otoya for patrols, but some things never change, do they?” Haruki grins, leaning forward to stretch her arms across the counter. “Kouko’s in better shape than you are after a night of rest. Though you should apologize when you see her in the library later.”

“Yes, I intend to do so.” Hitsugi chuckles.

Like clockwork, Haruki would leave by two thirty for her afternoon shift at the street corner cafe. Dressed in a plain black button up collared shirt and a pair of equally dark coloured long pants, Haruki shoves her feet into shoes while her hands busied with taming her wild hair into a presentable low ponytail. The top button of her shirt is left open but that’s alright, her manager did say it adds to the appeal.

“Alright, I’ll be off! Try to stay clear of trouble and not come home too late, yeah?” she shouts as the door shuts.

“C'mon, we’re scheduled for tonight; I can’t come back late even if I wanted to!” Hitsugi retorts. The door locks with an electronic click.

Various sounds left with Haruki and Hitsugi finds herself surrounded by a comfortable yet lonely silence. She loves the silence though.

Propping an elbow on the counter she rests her cheek in her hand, observing sparrows perched on a branch beyond the kitchen window. Adult birds free to roam wherever and whenever they please. Do they have a home? Is it a fixed place for them, or always on the move?

She shifts her gaze to the overturned cups drying on the dish rack. Home. That’s what Haruki called this place. Kouko had also referred to this place as ‘home’ on several occasions in the past. What about herself?

Hitsugi cast a sideways glance at the television which is now switched off. Did she also view this place as home, or just a resting stop that she always returned to? This place where four Hounds would wait obediently for orders from their handler. Would she call this place ‘home’?

Then again, what did ‘home’ mean to her?

* * *

Fresh out of the bath with a change of casual wear and hair wrapped in a towel atop her head, Carol had been warming up to her morning routine in relative peace. Alas, that quietness was never meant to last.

“HAAAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAROL!!!”

The woman nearly leapt out of her skin as she opened the door.

Hibiki had lunged at her for a great big hug. They collided and fell heavily into the door, Hibiki’s arms thrown around Carol’s neck as she caught her by the waist and braced for impact. Nice. She’ll have to explain to their neighbours for that loud crash if they come asking. Smiling wryly Carol raised a brow at her giggling friend wrapped tight against her, a little winded but otherwise fine.

“What’s wrong with you?” she frowns and couldn’t help asking amid a choked laugh. Hibiki clung to her like a playful pup does with a little child, and while that might be an exaggeration, the analogy was very, very close. Carol had to tap out.

“Oh! Hehe, sorry! I was just really excited to wish you a ‘Happy Birthday!’ once you were up!” Hibiki sheepishly admits, pulling away to let Carol breathe.

Eight months have passed since they first met by Lydian’s regular dormitory’s office. Carol had abruptly transferred to the faculty of social science in the middle of their academic year, and there was no available room for her in the faculty’s dorm. The officer-in-charge had to send her away to find her own accommodation. That wasn’t the first time she’s had to navigate alone in a foreign land. She found a place outside of the city center, but the cost of rent wasn't sustainable. Meanwhile her position in class had been less than exciting. Everyone had found friends and gathered in cliques, lessons quickly became a solitary experience.

Looking back, Carol wondered if Hibiki had been desperate. Hibiki's cohort of the veterinary course was tiny compared to many others, so their accommodation was lumped under the regular dorms where the general education students would stay. Each apartment would fit two students, but only Hibiki was left without a roommate. Hibiki's place remained open when Carol tried her luck and enquired the office for any vacant room to stay.

“I’ve got something for you!” Hibiki declares then vaults over their beds, the shortest route across the room, to her bedside drawer. "Well I wasn't sure what you'd like as a gift so I think I played it safe with this…"

Carol follows her, naturally curious about the item. She walks around their beds like any normal human should.

"What's that?" she peers over Hibiki's shoulder and spots a bright blue object cradled in her hands. At first Hibiki tries to hide it from view, but lets out a nervous laugh before showing Carol the item.

"It's an amulet for good studies!" Hibiki says.

Carol studies the gift, handling it with utmost care. The cloth used was of good material. She brushes a thumb over the white ribboned knot that ties everything together, admiring the clean stitches and golden thread embroidery on its front. She gives the amulet a squeeze. It's a handful. She examines it in the light while Hibiki fidgets beside, awaiting the verdict.

"This is… … ..."

“Handmade?”

“Too big? Oh.”

Carol squints at her friend who reacted like a child who’d gotten caught saying the wrong things, trying to laugh it off.

“Size doesn’t matter, Hibiki.” she sighs. “It’s the thought from the heart that counts. And you have a big heart, so honestly it’s no surprise that what you made turned out to be bigger than usual.”

"But why make it by hand, don't they sell proper amulets in shrines and temples?" Eyes on the fire Carol slides a cube of butter into the pan and watches it bubble aggressively. She adjusts the knob. Hibiki had already burnt two eggs in three minutes and Carol wasn't keen to risk more for breakfast.

Relegated to preparing drinks Hibiki stands by the stove as she waits for the water to boil. “I saw my grandma make some for her friends and thought that was so cool and personal for a gift! So I had her teach me. Besides, there aren’t many of those left nowadays. Shrines, I mean. The nearest with charms is half a day on train across the country.”

“You wouldn’t make the trip for me?” Carol whined coyly, and swore to herself not to do that ever again.

It causes Hibiki to flinch in more ways than one. “Ehhhh? I’m just a broke college kid, I can't afford such a ride.”

“I was kidding.” Carol reassures with a pat on her back.

"And I here wrote the prayer that's kept inside the amulet too…" Hibiki mutters, faking disappointment.

"Interesting. Can I open to take a look?"

"No! You'll ruin the charm's effect!"

Seconds sizzled past, laughter and teasing dying down without another sound as they kept to their halves of the cooktop.

“The amulet,” Carol clears her throat, then speaks softly in a tender voice. “thank you for the gift. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome!”

A cracked egg dances, the boiled kettle whistles, and Hibiki browses their selection of drink mixes in a cabinet above.

“Hot chocolate?” Hibiki asks.

“Hot chocolate.” Carol replies.

Perhaps for once, just one time, her wish to have a forgettable uneventful birthday could come true.

Breakfast was as normal, a slice of toast each with bacon and eggs while Hibiki dominates the conversation, talking of classmates, school life, and family life as Carol listened to her. They'd do the dishes together when neither had morning lectures to attend, one rinsing the utensils while the other dries and puts them back in place. An uneventful routine that, Carol was subtly pleased to note, did not change to accommodate the day. 

Hibiki launches herself tummy-down onto their sofa and flicks the television on with its remote. A couple of animal videos shouldn’t hurt when she has two hours to kill before the first lecture. Her ears picked up the jingle of Carol’s keys right as she’d gotten comfy and immediately Hibiki perks up to peer over into their room.

“You’re heading out?” Hibiki asks, uncertain. She checks their shared calendar, which is hung by the kitchen wall, and Carol’s column reads empty for the day. She wasn’t leaving for class. 

“I’ll be at the library,” Carol says, slinging her bag on one shoulder. “to gather reading materials and hopefully,” she stresses her words “complete an essay that’s due tomorrow.”

Well, Carol didn’t sound very confident about meeting the deadline, that’s for sure. Hibiki rarely heard her roommate speak of her coursework with such uncertainty, and it had her raise a brow.

“Is there any way I can help?” the peach-haired girl offers, and Carol gives it a thought.

“Flower’s pancakes will be nice.” she says.

"Huh?"

Carol checks their calendar herself. Hibiki's last tutorial would end at six today. Perfect.

"Will you call me after class? We'll meet at Flower's. The homework is important yes, but I'll need to eat, too."

"Really?" Hibiki exclaims, pushing herself off the couch . "I'll let grandma know to whip up something good for us!"

* * *

“Submit an essay to my office by lunch on Thursday.”

Was all Kaiba told their small class of forty who’d registered for this semester’s history elective. That was yesterday. And today picks up where Carol had left off, writing a history paper fitting for a history class. Her topic? The Fifth Industrial Revolution, the last advancement mankind made two centuries ago before obliterating themselves with the push of a button.

To be honest this wasn't too challenging of an assignment. In fact, Carol was already two thirds into her main essay, and that’s after revising her draft twice last night. Ideally she would finish by today and make further edits tomorrow. Yet no matter what she did, Carol couldn't shake the feeling that she'd overlooked something fundamental in her homework.

Waltzing into the library of their new campus building Carol makes a bee-line for its history collection, hopeful to find books related to the topic she’s chosen. History is a wide genre afterall, covering quite literally everything of the past, from military history, social history, and cultural history, to intellectual history, economic history, and the list goes on.

Speaking of military history, this library seems to have an awful lot of books regarding that in its shockingly limited selection. Titles from the Second World War --people still talk about that?-- to the War of Antarctica, the AI Nuclear Genocide, and of course, the Silver-Oak War. Carol stares the shelf down. As if she needed to know more about that war than she already does. Conflict is all there is at the tips of people’s tongues and if humanity was ever consistent of anything throughout history, it’s this.

Carol finds herself enroute to the old campus library. It’s out of the way, with no aircon and no electronic directory, but Carol would count that all worth the trade if its selection is as varied as the rumors say. She glances at her watch and it’s almost three in the afternoon. Time is running out. She holds her breath as she treads through the history section and breathes in relief upon spotting the sub-category she needed.

Kaiba's assignment was unusual in the sense that it came without a list of topics to choose from. That meant the student was free to write anything of their preference as long as it fits the structure of a history paper, even if the subject of discussion was controversial. Carol forfeited that opportunity to expand on an, admittedly, less risky topic. Her discussion points are sound and correct, forming the body of an essay that would undoubtedly score in any other history assignment. Yet how would she explain this restlessness within her? Should she have written more freely?

“... that’s messed up.” she mutters to herself and reaches up for yet another entry of the twenty-first century industrial revolution, when a stranger interrupts her.

“Do you need help?” asks the girl with light blue hair and golden eyes. She wore a black turtleneck shirt, so the shade of colours stood out. In her arm were books with labels from different categories and Carol briefly wondered if this girl was a volunteer librarian or just a student like herself.

“No, I’m,” sigh, did she need help? That’s a good question. She looked between the book she was getting to the other books in her hand, then shot daggers at the stranger staring at her.

“What is it,” Carol demands, not used to being observed by someone she’s unfamiliar with. The girl waves and offered a laugh that reminded her of Hibiki.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, your eyes are really beautiful.”

… what? Carol frowns and the girl merely smiles.

“Those,” she gestures to the books Carol held. “I’ll assume they’re for an assignment. If you don't mind, may I suggest others that might be a better read?”

Carol wasn’t quick to trust a stranger’s words and remained doubtful even as she agreed to her help. She fished out thinner books that replaced a couple of Carol’s thicker ones and that only added to her skepticism. Carol separates them from her existing pile.

“How do you know these are better than the ones I’ve borrowed from the new library?”

“It’s the delivery of information, the perspective per se.” the stranger explains. “Jacqueline and Meyer’s journals are good, but if you’re searching for is a pure recount of factors leading to the fifth industrial revolution then their books would take you on time-consuming cultural detours.”

The girl thumbs through a book then returns it to the shelf. “In comparison, Amalfi lays it as it is. I suppose that’ll save you time to focus on the points you might need. Though, that’s just my opinion. You’re free to keep your loans.”

There’s that smile again, that unnerving smile. One that’s curved so perfectly, so practiced it almost screams fake.

Carol casts another apprehensive look at those books. She had to admit, the easier text was tempting, especially with her limited time left.

Scouring through the shelves again, the stranger asks.

“Since you’ll be working on the fifth industrial revolution, do you intend to make comparisons to the fourth or”

Carol raised a hand to stop the girl.

“Actually, about that.”

Explaining her situation from top-down was somehow easier than she’d imagined. Or perhaps it helped that she didn't speak in depth of her actual problem, but the stranger listened patiently, nodding at times but never once interrupting.

“That’s unexpected,” the stranger finally says.

“What is.”

“That you’ll chose to write something that's not the Silver-Oak War." the stranger smiles as before, and yet it felt slightly different. Was she relieved? Amused?

"It's the biggest thing in recent history, so rather than revisiting something from say, two thousand years in the past, most students would fall back on this war to show off their so-called understanding of the events. It's easy since there's so much talk about it, from politicians to news outlets to case studies for the first years. But clearly, you're unlike most students.”

“You speak like you're not one yourself." Carol crosses her arms. "I just don’t like writing those events.”

“A coincidence, me too.”

The stranger chuckles and Carol eyed her warily. She understood her caution made no sense when this stranger intended no harm, so she softens her gaze and makes herself relax.

"What would you have written, if you were me?" Carol asks out of curiosity and the stranger ponders for a moment. 

“If it's any topic… I would write something I'm familiar with, something I'm really fascinated about that I'd want to introduce to others? Come to think, couldn't that be the purpose why the assignment was made this way, to introduce yourself to the lecturer?"

* * *

To introduce herself. She did think she'd missed something but…

"---rol. Carol?"

Carol blinked, Hibiki's concerned face filling her entire field of view.

"What is it"

"Don't 'what is it' me. Your food's here, yet all you did was stare past it. Don't disrespect the okonomiyaki, Carol."

The girl tried to sound stern, keyword being 'tried' because a wide grin soon replaced her serious facade and Carol marveled at how quickly that put her at ease. How unlike the experience from hours ago. What that girl said weighed on her mind, if only for the possibility of it becoming true. Carol absentmindedly prodded at her food with her chopsticks, trying hard not to play with her food in Hibiki's presence. Only after several pokes did she take her first bite, the flavour of grilled meat and sweetness of cabbage coating her mouth.

"How’s your essay?” Hibiki asks with her mouth stuffed full, muffled words that only Carol could decipher. 

"It's made progress, and I can finish it in time." Carol answers, catching a glimpse at the corner of her eye of Hibiki's grandmother smiling apologetically from behind the counter. That must've been for her granddaughter's absent table manners. Discreetly Carol nods to say she doesn't mind. She's been living with this for eight months after all, and it's too late to be bothered by it now.

“I found some books that are of great help.” and also met a girl who smiled the same like you. The same cheerful smile, yet different.

Was it because they were fake? But there was emotion in that other time she smiled. How helpful is her suggestions if it’s all a pretense? And her comment of her eye, is that… too?

“Uhh, Carol, is there something on my face?” Hibiki scratches her cheek. “It’s awkward eating when you’re watching me this intensely…”

Oh.

“Ah, no, it’s nothing.”

That night Carol stayed up and finished her paper. She studied Jacqueline’s journal of the industrial revolution, and it annoyed her that what the stranger said of the book was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading till the end! Really, thank you very much!
> 
> I know this isn't a very good opener so feedback is much appreciatead!
> 
> Admittedly writing this crossover *supernatural* AU was a fresh experience. I just wanted to write Carol and Hitsugi together in a specific scene to scratch a specific itch and suddenly we've got vampires werewolves and hybrids aha.
> 
> It was fun to mesh details from both series though! Like how Lydian Private Academy takes its name from Lydian in Symphogear but in this writing the main (new) school building is the 100 storey tower and its related buildings of Myoujou Academy. The old school building is the fancy Lydian campus from Symphogear G to XV. Same for the dormitory apartment Hibiki shared with Carol, it's the apartment Hibiki and Miku stays in from Symphogear GX to XV.


End file.
